Another passing of another legend – 2016, you are indeed not mucking around are you?

In the past few days you have undoubtedly read the tributes and watched the footage of the life of Muhammad Ali and with such passings there is often overstatement and hyperbole to fully, sometimes hysterically, define such figures.

There are no overstatements when it comes to the life of Ali. He was bigger and broader than any tribute.

He was colossal. As a boxer, he was extraordinary. His skill was such that Bruce Lee studied his technique, his footwork, his movement in the ring. A dancer studying another dancer.

Ali’s career as a boxer ranks him as one of the greatest sportsmen in US history, but he was much more than that and that is another reason to mourn his loss.

He found fame in the ring and infamy out of it. Ali was a perfect imperfection, a clear contradiction. He was loved and hated in equal measure.

I read a few dissenting comments on social media, that village where Village Idiots seem to dominate, that he was a draft dodger and this was somehow reason to attack him and his memory.

Well, not so. He didn’t dodge anything. He didn’t flee to Canada to escape being drafted. His was conscientious objection. His was protest.

To be clear, I don’t blame anyone else who went to Canada or elsewhere. The war in Vietnam is one of the biggest mistakes in American history; a conflict they couldn’t and didn’t win.

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And what an incredible voice he had. It was soft and lilting, lyrical and musical, a voice suited to poetry, of which he excelled and was famous for. Ali had charisma to spare.

He was a gift to the media. Not just sporting media, but mainstream media; who did he think he was proclaiming himself The Greatest?

Riling other fighters saying they weren’t pretty enough to be a world champion, bragging about his own skill, that he was so fast he could turn out a light and be in bed before the room got dark, so mean he made medicine sick. Pure, beautiful showmanship. The verbal Ali shuffle.

Boxing legend and humanitarian Muhammad Ali pictured here during training for his fight with Al 'Blue' Lewis held in Dublin in 1972

When he embraced the Nation Of Islam, it was a rebirth. A rejection of the name given to his grandfather by a white slave trader. He wasn’t going to be any man’s slave, he wanted freedom, even when it looked like it would be taken from him for taking a stand against violence, against fighting for a country he felt was more hostile towards him and his people.

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He knew that even the best case scenario would come with a price. He knew it was possible he would never fight again.

He was banned from boxing for three years. He avoided prison as his case was appealed, but it seemed his career would be over.

On his return to the ring in 1970, he defeated Jerry Quarry in the third round.

His next fight, against Smokin’ Joe Frazier, dubbed the fight of the century, saw him lose after 15 rounds, the first defeat of his career.

The following year the Supreme Court overturned his conviction for draft evasion.

In 1974 Ali would defeat Frazier and George Foreman in the same year and reclaim his heavyweight champion belt.

In recent years, suffering from Parkinson’s disease, Ali saw his strength and health taken from him, but his legacy continued in his life beyond the ring, raising money and awareness for many causes including the illness that would finally take him.

There are a myriad of stories about him, but my favourite is when he met Will Smith, who was preparing for the title role of the film Ali.

The actor went to meet the champ and said Ali – who was already pretty ill and more fragile than anyone could ever imagine such a man being – stared at his face, studying it, his eyes taking him in.

Then he smiled and said, “Yeah, you’re almost pretty enough to play me”.